There was probably never really a 'good' time to interrupt Clint unannounced. Because the chances that you would interrupt a moment just like this present one was very, very high, to say the least. He was balls-deep in Lincoln, fucking him hard enough to have the head board banging against the wall when he heard Ainsley's yelling to let him in. Because it wasn't an expected visit, he had to take it as being out of the norm. If the kid was shouting, maybe he needed help. Clint had err on the side of caution because if Ainsley needed help and Clint ignored it, he would basically be dead by asphyxiation with his own cock when Ange got her hands on him. Lincoln was almost spent anyway. He had a fly-by trip to LA for a photoshoot, and a couple of red eye flights later, he was exhausted.

Cursing harshly as he withdrew, Clint gave Lincoln a rough kiss and told him to get some sleep. Lincoln got off, but Clint was left high and dry. He had every intention of making up for it later. Lincoln literally rolled over and crashed out while Clint was still pulling his trousers on and went through to get the door. He opened it to Ange's little brother. "What? What is it? Is someone trying to fucking murder you?"